That evening Mark Sutherland returned home sooner than usual. His countenance was cheerful with good news, and he threw into Rosalie’s lap a packet of letters and papers from home—the first that had been received since their separation from their friends. There was a letter from Colonel Ashley, full of kind wishes, and something more substantial in the shape of a cheque on the St. Louis bank, for his niece. He informed them that he was again alone—that his son, St. Gerald, having lost his election, had, under the disappointment, yielded to the wishes of his wife, and taken her to her Southern home; and that he expected his own eldest daughter, now a widow, to return and take the direction of his household. There was also a letter from Valeria to Rose, and one from Lincoln to Mark. By these letters they learned that Mr. and Mrs. Lauderdale had joined the Ashleys at Cashmere, and remained the guests of Clement Sutherland for a month before proceeding to their own home in Louisiana. Valeria wrote that the Valley of the Pearl was still the loveliest vale on earth, and Cashmere the brightest gem on its bosom; but that the envied master of this Eden was more sullen, morose, and unhappy than ever—that it was rumoured his affairs were not as prosperous as before—that he had engaged in ruinous speculations—that Mr. St. Gerald Ashley, since losing his election, had lost his good temper and amiability, and sought more consolation from his “generous wine” than from his unloving wife—that all these circumstances weighed heavily upon the health and spirits of the beautiful India, who had changed sadly within the last few months. The kind-hearted but volatile Valeria touched lightly and reluctantly upon these unhappy circumstances, and seemed always divided between her spirit of communicativeness and her scruples of conscience. Mark Sutherland and Rosalie read with regret, and turned from the sad contemplation with a sense of relief to rest gladly upon the image of Valeria and Lincoln Lauderdale, now happily settled upon their beautiful estate of Fairplains, in Louisiana. Withal this was a happy evening to the young cottagers—a festival of gladness, such as can be fully enjoyed only by exiles, feasting upon long-desired letters from home. The next day Rosalie was somewhat surprised to receive a visit from Judy, and very well satisfied to effect with her an arrangement by which Judy was to do all the washing and ironing for Rosalie, who was to repay her by making up frocks and aprons for her children. And so, before the end of the first week of housekeeping, Rosalie’s domestic circumstances were providentially arranged in all the order and comfort consistent with log-cabin life.